A Trapped Soul
by MachiavelliFAN
Summary: A soul unable to move on, a soul unable to forget, a soul trapped in time is a soul that will change the world. The question is, how? SPOILERS! M/F/M! Pre-WW2 - POST CACW/Rating may change.


It wasn't just that she had been alive for a very long time. It was that she could remember every single detail about each and every year that she had lived through and when you live through billions of years, it gets oh – so – tiring. The only things she didn't remember and chose to forget were the names that she picked up and dropped like pebbles into a pond and the situation that cursed her into living this dreadful existence. She evolved with the times, always staying one foot ahead of humanity and thus ensuring her survival. If anyone ever found out about her, and there had been some pretty close calls especially once the camera was invented, she simply disappeared. Lottie – it was the name she was going by and one that was proper enough for this era – sighed and pushed away her morbid thoughts. It was time for work.

As Lottie put on her apron and began working the night shift – and it was always the night shift because men in a bar were less likely to remember a woman in the morning – she paid attention to the sounds around her. There was the saxophone playing some truly astounding notes coupled with the raucous sounds of one the many card games happening simultaneously. The stench that Lottie was beginning to become very familiar with as beer and whiskey and scotch muffled the scents of fear and anxiety that clustered around the door. Men tried hard to shed that baggage at the door when they came to drink, Lottie found.

"Hey sweetheart! Can I get three beers here? My friend Stevie here wants to prove something to the rest of us!" One of the men in uniform pants but not a uniform jacket waved Lottie over, mockingly laughing at one of his companions.

"Comin' right up, darling!" Lottie yelled back.

She found that she rather liked the way women were treated in this era. They had just enough power to pull men in but also not enough to let that power go through their minds. It was intoxicating to find out just what a man would do for a bit of skin.

"Here you are! You gonna pay up now, or I'll Smith know to get you a tab? Then again, don't really know when you'll be back, do ya? Hope you got cash on ya mister." Lottie spoke, smacking her lips loudly for effect.

That was one thing that really needed to change in the next era. She wasn't even chewing anything but it had to seem like that. The posturing to seem tough was exhausting.

"Aw shucks, sweetie, I guess I left me wallet back at base. No problem, though, I'll let Stevie here pick up our tab 'cuz there's no way in hell he's gonna be going anywhere!" The men all burst into laughter and Lottie watched as Steve, the smallest of the bunch, got jostled and forcefully gave a laugh.

Lottie rolled her eyes and left. She'd probably have to pickpocket someone tonight or Smith would have her head.

Lottie did a few more rounds before coming back to the table with the men and 'Stevie'. There was another man that had joined them.

"Anything else for y'all?" She asked, placing on a thick Southern accent to confuse them a little bit more.

"I thought you were up from Boston, with that tongue earlier little lady." The leader smirked at her. Lottie glanced around at the men. The new man was speaking urgently with Steve. It looked like an argument.

"Aw, darlin' you must've met my sister. She moved up there with her beaux you know? Then came back down when she heard I was here. Give me a few years and I'll lose it, sweetheart." Lottie grinned at the man. She pointed behind her to the get the man to look and quickly pickpocketed him. He definitely carried enough change to pay for the beers.

"Well alright then. Stevie we've been waitin' an awful long time. You gonna drink the beers or are you gonna chicken out and let the lady take your drinks back?" The leader asked Stevie again.

Stevie glanced back at the new man, straightened out, and pushed past the men to grab the first of the three beers. Lottie watched with trepidation as the short man began gulping down beer in a very rookie fashion before stopping in between to catch air. He was going to pass out before the second beer was half over. Lottie didn't stick around to see what happened.

It was only as she was leaving the bar at the end of her shift that she ran into Stevie again. He draped himself around the door as he came out of the bathroom which reeked of the beer and stomach acid that Stevie had just emptied into the toilet. Lottie sighed and grabbed the arm of the small man and helped him to a nearby booth where he could sleep off the beer. His comrades had departed him. It was a wonder the army had managed to win the last world war if they were this deserting of their own people. The Romans would be appalled.

Lottie startled out of her light nap when her roommate who had the morning shift came in waving a napkin.

"Look Lottie! You've got an admirer!" She handed the slightly dirty napkin to Lottie who looked at the detailed drawing in surprise.

She hadn't thought that Stevie had gotten such a good look at her. 'Thank you' the note said, along with a very detailed drawing of Lottie's face. It even had three little beer mugs next to her face to remind her of who he was. Lottie frowned momentarily. Would this become a problem?

Although the other uniformed men came and went, often looking worse for wear as the war dragged on, Lottie never saw Stevie again. Soon, almost a whole year had passed and Lottie could see some signs that the era was changing. Deciding to quit her job, she collected her earnings and left for the safe house that she had constructed in the South during the late 1800s. Waving goodbye to Smith, she headed for the train station. Suddenly, she was grabbed by a pair of strong arms.

"Might wanna watch where you're goin', darlin'." Lottie looked up at the scruffy beard and deeply saddened brown eyes. The sound of a horn honking passed by as the man set Lottie back on her feet.

"You look like you could use a drink." She told him. This man looked like he needed a friend and Lottie wasn't in a rush.

"He was always so small, you know? And now he's gone and grown up and everythings big and bold and he's just so damn strong but he's still Steve!" James 'Bucky' Barnes spoke with a fervor as though he hadn't been able to get the words out of his mind to speak aloud. Lottie simply nodded and patted James on his arm. James sighed and stared at his drink.

"I just don't know what to think anymore. He's my Steve, but then he's not. Now he's off with those showgirls touring the country and I know he hates it because he wanted to fight and prove himself to be the better person than he used to be. But, honestly? I think he was the best person on this planet." James wasn't so loud anymore and Lottie knew why.

Homosexuals were unwelcome in this era. Lottie rubbed his back and nodded at Smith who gave her the check. After paying for it and settling James in a corner half asleep, Lottie turned back to go to her old room and sleep until tomorrow morning when she would definitely board that train to Charleston.

"Wow Lottie, got yourself a real writer last night, huh? And to think you were in a huff to leave yesterday!" Lottie looked up bemusedly at her energetic roommate.

"I'm still leavin', Olive." Lottie smiled back tired. "What's this about a writer, huh?"

"Well, see for yourself. This one was on the table where a man in uniform was sleepin' but he left after writing the note." Olive handed Lottie the note and began helping Lottie with her hair. Lottie began to read the short poem. She smoothed over the napkin and tucked it into her memories box on the dresser right next to Stevie's drawing. It was time to leave.


End file.
